When Deprived
by Ai Tennshi
Summary: Nadja has a problem that only Keith can help her with. Crack!fic
1. When Deprived

_Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable from Ashita no Nadja._

**In a Forgotten Attic**

Nadja danced. Her dance was wild and passionate; not because it had to be, or even because she wanted it to be, but because she needed it to be. She needed to be able to dance with an abandon that would toss all other thoughts out of the window.

These days, she _needed_ to dance like this, because she felt that if she didn't she would go mad. It had started out simply as more dancing: extra practice in the mornings, then a extra practice in the afternoons, and finally extra practice in the evenings as well. When she no longer had any more time to fill with dancing, she danced increasingly vigorously.

At performances, of course, she tempered herself. She had choreographed a dance that would work for her current temperment: one that was wild and passionate to begin with. Still, it needed some amount of tempering before an audience. When she practiced, however, she let all of her flaming emotions shoot into her movements, and refused to stop until she felt her body approaching its limit.

She practiced like a woman possessed, despite Thomas, Arvell, Kennosuke, Rita, and the Leader's collective efforts to coax her out of it. They told her that she could tell them if there was something making her frustrated, or angry. But this simply was not the case.  Silvy was the single one who did not tell her to stop. Instead, Silvy pulled her aside one day, on the guise that they were going to shop for food to cook dinner that evening.

"Nadja, is there a reason behind this craziness?" Nadja opened her mouth to insist that there was not, certain that she was to receive the same lecture from Silvy that she had received from everyone else.

"No, of course n-" But as she began her denial, she looked up and saw the twinkling in the older woman's eyes. Of course there was no use for denials here. Silvy was a woman too—she already knew. So Nadja just sighed and looked away.

Silvy chuckled. "I'm sure most people go through this at one time or another, Nadja."

"That doesn't help it!" Nadja whispered, looking around nervously. She didn't like to say anything particularly..._condemning_ out loud, but it was definitely getting to the point where she would burst if she could not at least discuss the problem at hand, if not do something about it. "He's always been such a lawless, careless cad, and now he insists on being honorable! He bearly..." She flushed.

"Honorable men are certainly frustrating when they're attractive," Silvy sighed sympathetically.  "It's not a matter of _attractiveness_," Nadja explained. "It's more...well, he's _Keith_. And when I'm with him, I just..."

She was starting to resemble a tomato, Silvy registered with amusement.

"He wants to get married first, but I don't want to get married, not yet at least, because it would mean that I'd have to leave the Troupe, but-"

"But you need to bed him?"  "The other way around would be preferable. And it's not really a _need_..."

"Judging by your daily routines as of late, I would say that it is."

Strange that this was a mere discussion of her daily routine.

Silvy sighed and stopped. "Nadja, we're in London."

Nadja blinked, baffled by this sudden change of topic. "So we are."

"As of now, you have a week off. Go explain to our young chivalrous young knight how essential it is that he bed you. I'm sure he'd be happy to comply."

Surprisingly, Nadja only declined the suggestion once before spinning around and rushing off.


	2. When Interrupted

_Author's Note: This is crack. Don't take it too seriously. ;)_

"Nadja," Keith blinked. He had expected that when the baffled butler told him that a viscious common girl demanded to see him, but he certainly did not understand why his lover of three years would show up on his doorstep, terrorizing the butler. Nadja was not often viscious, and even then, only with good reason. Had he unknowingly done something to upset her? Or was it something else? "Is something wrong?"

Indeed, Nadja's eyes were flashing as she stomped up to him.

"I pledged myself to you when I was fourteen. Neither of us has glanced in the direction of anyone else since then. At least, so I thought. But it's been three years. I'm seventeen, and you're twenty. But all you do is _kiss_ me, and so help me, but you kiss like...like _paradise_, especially when you do that thing with your tongue, or when you use your teeth a little, and your fingers are like fire when you hug me, but that's _all you do!_ Are you aware that I've been going crazy? My daily routines are getting so crazy with dance practice, because I use that to take my mind off this, but even that isn't working too well anymore, and people are starting to worry that I'm trying too hard! This is all your fault, so if you don't take responsibility and bed me soon-"

A more honorable man may have protested. Keith, however, was not as honorable as he was frustrated, and the hours of paperwork and horseback riding were definitely not helping any more than Nadja's excessive dance practice. Nadja wasn't the only one who was being chewed out about her daily routine.

Which was why Nadja was cut off when he crossed the room in three strides, grabbed her by the hips with one hand and the back of the neck with the other, and she would have melted into his kiss if she hadn't been so determined to get far, far more than this.

"Nadja, is that you-" The door at the other room opened and Francis stepped in, only to halt and stare in moral outrage—and with mild brain damange and the strange need to burn his eyes out—at the sight that was his brother and his best friend.

Nadja, at least, had the decency to release her legs from Keith's waist and get back on her own two feet, but Keith pushed her harder against the wall with a glare at Francis that was strangely reminiscent of a wolf ready to pounce upon its prey. Francis wasn't sure if said 'pouncing' involved Nadja being bedded or himself being murdered, but seeing as how Nadja appeared to be an active participant, he figured that he was best not interfering lest the two of them decide that he needed to be murdered.

But in a last scramble for descency, he tried, "If I may...this is a rather public area. Perhaps your bed chambers-"

Keith had scooped Nadja up before Francis could finish, and Francis watched in vague horror as Nadja gave a squeal of delight and looped her arms around Keith's neck, tossing the words, "Thanks, Francis!" carelessly back at him as if she had not just traumatized him for life.

Francis only understood the reprecussions of his suggestion that night when he went to his own chambers to sleep that night—chambers which were right next to Keith's where 'activities' were still loudly continuing.

Obviously, he had grossly underestimated the stamina of two rather athletic individuals who were dealing with five years' worth of sexual tention. It also explained the randomly blushing maids and servants that he had glimpsed around the house that evening.

He decided that he was going to go pay the Hamiltons a late visit, and hopefully never return until his traumatised mind had eliminated the entire incident from his memory.


End file.
